


Hiddlesbum

by Tilltheendwilliwrite



Series: Tom Hiddleston Drabbles [1]
Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hiddlesbutt, тэг заменён на Don't copy to another site
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-22 11:26:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17058923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tilltheendwilliwrite/pseuds/Tilltheendwilliwrite
Summary: @magellan-88 You are a shit, but fine. (I can’t believe I wrote this) Came to be because of this post.Warnings: None but the fact that this is about Tom Hiddleston’s butt.





	Hiddlesbum

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Magellan88](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magellan88/gifts).



* * *

It was round. Really that was the extent of what you could say about Tom’s most delectable ass. It was round, round and firm and just… _mmm_ , touchable. What you wouldn’t give to simply reach out and squeeze it.

_Just once_!

You weren’t a greedy girl, one who wanted to cling and caress and shake that thing, not you. You just wanted to squeeze it A nice full grip to see if it was, in fact, firm enough to bounce a quarter off of.

When your friend, and fellow celebrity dresser, cleared her throat you snapped back to the reality of how you’d been staring, quite intently, unfortunately, at Tom’s delicious backside far too long through the open door of the large dressing area. Burning red, you hoped it had gone unnoticed and went back to brushing and pressing the jacket for his next round of pictures.

You lived for these photo shoots when you got to play a grown-up version of dress-up with people you’d never have met otherwise.

A few moments later, Tom returned, his smile soft but wide as he ran his hand down the lapel of the dark dinner jacket you’d just finished pressing. “I believe this is my favourite of the day,” he said, his whiskey smooth voice seeming almost to dance across your skin and tease your blush into hotter colours.

Grinning at you, Marcie headed out the door, leaving you behind - and alone - with the man most likely to star in your fantasies.

That traitor.

Glancing up at Tom as the door shut, finding him shrugging out of the leather jacket he’d been in for the previous shots, you rushed to take it from him.

“Thank you, dear (Y/N),” he smiled, eyes sparkling with something akin to mischief. No wonder they cast him as Loki. “What do you think?”

“Hmm?” you asked stupidly. 

His smile became a grin. “The formal wear, darling? Is it to your liking?”

“Oh! Oh, yes. It’s quite nice. The cut will suit you,” you managed to say, offering a smile.

His hand closed over yours. “Is everything alright? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so distracted.”

“Yup!” you squeaked, praying to any god - besides the one he played - that you weren’t as red as you felt.

More laughter sparkled in his eyes. “You seem to be very flushed. Perhaps you’re coming down with something. Maybe you need to seek your bed once we finish.”

The word _bed_ rolled from his tongue like a sinful invitation you had no business imagining. "Ha ha! Yup will do!” you chirped as he made his way around the dressing screen.

You tried hard not to think about his clothes coming off, wondering if the jeans he was currently in would get hung up on the curves of his buttocks. Taking deep breaths, forcing your heart to calm itself and your face to become a color other than crimson, you pulled yourself together. This was not your first time dressing Tom, but it would be your last if you didn’t get it together!

When he returned around the screen, he was muttering, fighting with his cufflink. “Blasted, tiny, idiotic… who invented these damn things,” he grumbled before turning pleading eyes your way. “It seems I’m all thumbs today, darling. Would you be a dear and help a fellow out?” He was already standing in front of you, smile hopeful.

Chuckling softly, you reached for the first cuff. “That is my job. You don’t need to ask.” Fixing the first, you reached for the second.

“Brilliant,” he smiled when you finished. “And what of these slacks? Do they appear to fit alright? I’d hate to find I had a saggy bum in all the photos."  Turning to show you his backside, tightly contained in the elegant slacks, he watched you over his shoulder.

You hoped there wasn’t drool dripping down your chin.

Darting a glance up, you found the knowing grin of a man used to being ogled and blushed fully red. "I-I… I’m sorry,” you apologized, turning away in mortification.

Having none of it, Tom caged you between himself and the table at your back, setting you gasping in shock. "I didn’t ask for an apology, darling.” He reached for your hand. “In fact, I’m not averse to you having a closer look.” He placed it on the lush curve of his fine ass.

Embarrassment faded into shock, became wonder, and gave you a boost of confidence. “I was hoping for less of a look and more of a feel,“ you said with a cheeky grin.

His brow arched and smile turned crooked. "Feel away, but I do insist you have a drink with me once we're done. It’s only right after coping a feel of a gentleman’s bum.”

Biting your lip, you gave the firm, round, delectable peach a squeeze and sighed happily. “Just as I suspected. It’s quite lovely and firm.”

Bending down, eyes alight, he murmured near your ear, “If you think the back is firm, my dear, just wait till I introduce you to the front.”

-The End-


End file.
